In This Broken Place
by Vaecordia
Summary: He knew it was stupid to come here, in the middle of November. He knew letting his mind roam fleetingly was a mistake. He knew that even coming into the entire country in the first place was most likely a mistake. He knew that hoping, waiting for his call to be answered was ridiculous. RusAme, based on Without You by Ashes Remain.


For a Tumblr prompts - based on the song Without You by Ashes Remain.

Enjoy! Note: spoken sentences in italic mean that the words are spoken in Russian. Warning for one swearword.

* * *

 _I'm nowhere if I'm here_  
 _Without you_

Snow fell gently onto the ground, layering the street with a thin sleet that faded almost immediately. Few people were outside, but those who were - they were quick to draw back inside, into the safety of warmth.

When the cold seeped into his skin, he merely hugged his thick, dark wool coat closer to his body in the hopes of holding to a little warmth. The stale, cooling cup of coffee in front of him did little to raise his body temperature. A passerby eyed him with a curious look, wondering what someone would do sitting outside a café in the cold, alone. Alfred ignored it. Wrapping his gloved hands around the mug, he took a tentative sip between chapped lips and felt a small trickle of warmth. It wasn't long before he had placed the cup back down, and the heat had dissolved into his body.

For only a moment, he drew back his sleeve to glance at his watch. Quickly covering his arm and rubbing his hands together, he sighed shakily. He saw the breath vanish faintly into the frozen air, a thin cloud that dissipated without a trace. His eyes darted around and searched, but never found. He saw the empty street, devoid of cars, expand in both directions. He saw the river, still flowing but soon frozen by the hands of seasons. The sky was grey, thin silver threads bordering the edges of clouds. Trees lined the pavement on the opposite side of the street, the browned leaves dotted by spots of white. It was a stale, familiar environment - perhaps too familiar for his liking. And yet, he found himself here once more, in a place where his legs had driven him to by aimless wandering.

He knew it was stupid to come here, in the middle of November, wearing a coat and glove as layers to protect him from the cold bite of arriving winter. He knew letting his mind roam fleetingly was a mistake - especially in this God-forsaken city. He knew that even coming into the entire country in the first place was most likely a mistake. He knew that hoping, waiting for his call to be answered was ridiculous. He uncrossed his legs before crossing them again, drawing them just an inch closer to himself.

He dug into his pocket, drawing out his phone. Checked the screen for the fifteenth time in the space of what most likely was five minutes (it was empty, his wallpaper glaring brightly at him). He contemplated calling once more, or perhaps sending a message this time. Instead, he just thrust the phone back into his pocket and took in a deep breath - regretting it immediately as the cold air knifed at his throat and a cough itched his lungs.

The door of the café was flung open, the concerned owner peeking out and calling out to Alfred. Moments before the man said anything, Alfred knew he would just ask him to come inside - he had done so three times, now.

 _"Sir, please, would you come inside?"_

Alfred looked once more around him, resisting the urge to huff as he saw not a living soul in the street. He turned back to the man, a sheepish, halfhearted smile on his face. As it seemed that waiting outside was pointless, he admitted defeat and stood. He took the stale drink into his hand.

 _"Yes, I think I will,"_ Alfred said, shrugging. _"Guess the weather's not as good as I'd hoped,"_ he finished with a small chuckle.

The owner seemed relieved, as if he feared Alfred freezing outside in front of his small coffee shop. He retreated back inside as Alfred walked in. He found a lone, empty table near a window and fell into the chair.

 _Why does this remind so much of another time like this? Why am I back here, in the same place where I started? Is this really what we've become - two beings, bound to repeat their past mistakes? I don't know whether it's our nations that keep us apart, or who we are that builds a wall between us, or all of our history that digs a canyon to separate us. I don't know what more I can do. I remember how a hundred years ago, I hoped like today you would show up. I waited in the cold snow - it was later on in the year. But it was just as excruciating, waiting without knowing. But you never came - I don't know why I expected you to. What is it I'm waiting for, no answer at all, or an answer I don't want?_

As he stared out the window, he saw a figure across the street, huddled into a dark winter coat, taking long and careful strides. The man stopped to look at the shop for a moment, before taking a step towards the street - as if to cross it. But after that single step, he halted. He stood for a moment, unmoving, and Alfred settled the cup back onto the table, his eyes held by that man. The man across the street seemed to come to a decision, and he turned away. He began walking hastily in the direction where he came from, his head drawn lower than it had.

Alfred froze for a moment, the cup lifted halfway to his lips, his body taut with a held breath. He straightened in the chair as he saw the man move away and placed his cup back onto the table. It wasn't a second after that, that Alfred had all but scraped his chair against the floor in his hasty movement. He drew out more than enough money to pay for the mere cup of coffee he had drank half of, before nearly tossing them to the owner.

 _"Sir-!"_

He pushed the heavy door, almost slipping on the nearly frozen water on the terrace of the café. He crossed the street with barely more than a glance, his long coat trailing behind him. He felt his scarf sliding from his neck, and he hastily rearranged it. He saw the man draw further away from him, his walk more certain that Alfred's on the sleet-covered ground. After his steps faltered and he nearly stumbled for maybe the third time, he called out.

"Wait!"

The other stopped, and Alfred could tell - even at a distance - that the other had tensed, not expecting Alfred. Alfred stopped, waiting for the other to turn around. The wind blew his coat open, and he quickly drew the edges and closed the buttons. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and took a tentative step before stopping. Slowly and with hesitation, Ivan turned around to face Alfred. His violet eyes, dulled with a grey alike the colour of the sky, were riddled with too many things for Alfred to decipher. Alfred figured that Ivan saw the same thing in him. Ivan walked, hesitatingly slow, towards Alfred. They were now separated by a distance of a mere ten steps - too little, too much.

"Alfred,…" Ivan started, his eyes looking over the other fleetingly. "I did not expect to see you here," he said, his voice nonchalant, dismissive. So typical of him.

Alfred couldn't look at Ivan, and merely rolled his eyes. "Bullshit. I called you three times." He hoped Ivan hadn't counted the calls.

"Five," Ivan corrected, too fast for his liking. They both recognised their mistakes simultaneously, and a heavy, uncomfortable silence fell over them. Alfred's gaze fell to his feet, Ivan's slid to the river. They played with words in their heads, trying to find the perfect sentence to say, trying to find something to say. But what words were left after all had been already said? Alfred's eyes snapped up. Ivan's didn't move.

"Why did you turn away?"

"Why did you follow me?"

Alfred chuckled. He toed a single stone on the pavement. "You made me wait quite a while," he stated, skirting around the dangerous questions, the risky words.

"I didn't know whether I would show up," Ivan shrugged, his gaze flicking to Alfred.

"But you're here now."

He sighed. "So it seems."

Alfred had so dearly wanted Ivan to come. He had so desperately wanted to see him. He had needed to call him five times, just to hear his voice. And now he was here, in front of him, standing in silence. So long had he hoped for this day to come, and now he didn't know what to do with it. He had thought of a million ways this could go - and this was the worst of them all. Was it everything they had done, to the world and each other?

"I… it's been a while," he attempted, almost mentally wincing at the words. Neither of them could bring themselves to say anything that mattered.

"It has, yes. When was the last time it was just… just…"

"Just the two of us?" Alfred asked to clarify. He thought for a moment. "I can't remember," he admitted.

"Why did you call me?" Ivan asked, a frown setting on his features. His eyes were drawn straight at Alfred, looking at him - looking through him?

"I... ah,...," Alfred chuckled awkwardly, hand running through his hair. "I don't - I don't know." There was a pause, both trying to understand what it was they were doing. It was like their world had broken around them, shattered, and that they were left on a blank stage surrounded by burnt and useless flotsam. Maybe they were - maybe it was a new beginning. Or maybe it was a reminder of who they had been, who they could be, who they never would be.

"I needed to see you," Alfred shrugged.

"You flew across half the world, you called me multiple times, you waited in this freezing weather - because you needed to see me?" Ivan asked, his tone questioning, hitching slightly.

Alfred's answer was muttered, his eyes darting away. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"Why now?"

"It's been long enough."

"Long enough since what, Alfred?" Had Alfred grown tired of their dancing around each other? Had he decided to stop playing - or was he still moving his pawns?

"Ivan, really-" His voice broke halfway, but Ivan interrupted him anyway.

"Long enough since what, Alfred?" Ivan could feel his lungs constricting, his voice pressing against the back of his throat. "Long enough of this silliness that we are? Long enough since the last time we spoke in civilised tones? Long enough since what? I cannot guess what you mean, I too need something to go on!"

"Long enough since everything, Ivan," Alfred said, his voice cracking for a moment.

He looked away. "I waited for you, even when my country was broken, when my people hurt, even when you had taken everything from me - I waited for you. And you never came. Why would this time be any different?"

 _I waited for you, not so long ago, in a similar time and the same setting. I called for you. I had to see you. I wanted to see you. And yet, you never did come. Why is it that you dismissed me so easily, and left me stranded - but when you decide it suits your needs, I come at the first call? Why are we like this - were you avoiding the confrontation, the painful and obvious truth back then? When my country was in shambles once more, and you knew you should have been celebrating - but you weren't, you never could fully celebrate it. Was it that? Or did you just decide you'd had enough, you'd seen me fall, and you were victorious? Why is it so different now, why should it be any different now?_

"God damn it, I know I've been an idiot!" Alfred's hands flew upwards, and his irritation was clear. Ivan snorted. He turned to Ivan, eyes blazing. "But so have you!" Ivan responded with silence - he had nothing to say, he had nothing he could say. It was a universal truth, really. "We were both stupid, just - I don't have another word for it. Tell me, Ivan, am I the bigger idiot for hoping?" Alfred's eyes begged Ivan for the answer he wanted, the answer he needed.

"Hoping for what?" Ivan huffed.

"You, showing up," he stated bluntly.

They paused, Ivan thinking it over before relenting. "I guess you are not. I am here, am I not?"

Alfred took a step forward. "Then help me, Ivan, because I don't know how to fix us, and I want to - I need you to want it, too." He looked pleadingly at the other, his hands gesturing as he spoke."We've danced around each other long enough - hell, we almost blew up the world for it! I have to know, I need to know - am I chasing some stupid, silly dream, hoping beyond hope for something that just... that we can't have? I called you four times, because I have no-one else to call. I came here, because my mind drew me here. I've been looking in all the wrong places, I've been saying the wrong things - is this a dead-end, too?"

He fell silent, hesitation filling his eyes. Had he said too much? Or had he said too little? Ivan had looked away, and he didn't know what to do.

He tried to speak again. "Ivan,-"

"No, Alfred, you've said your part." Ivan turned to Alfred, a frown tracing his brow. "I came here, because I needed to see you. I turned away, because I remembered the thousand other dead-ends we've met. I stopped when you called out, because I have nowhere else to go."

He advanced, his eyes drawing Alfred's in. "I am tired of this - of seeing you, but avoiding you. Of having to talk to you, but forcing a snarl into my voice. Of chasing you and avoiding you at the same time. I'm tired - sick of it, just as much as you are. You have me beat, Alfred, and if what it takes for me to have a clear, final answer form you is my surrender - that, I do now. Because I've had enough of this, and I want a clear answer, just this once." Alfred's eyes had been glued to Ivan the entire time he spoke, as if mesmerised by the words. His blue eyes were watery, a softness overtaking them.

Alfred laughed, his teary eyes glinting. "I came here, to hear you tell me the exact same thing I wanted to tell you?"

"I guess you did," Ivan smiled. He lifted his hand to Alfred's face, a tentative touch, barely there. Alfred wanted to lean into the touch, but something held him back. "How foolish can we get?" He asked, a breathless voice.

Alfred smiled, shaking his head as he dropped his gaze. "You tell me." Alfred put his palms up against Ivan's shoulders, halfheartedly. "C'mon, you're being sappy, get off." But his hands curled to hold on to the coat.

Ivan gave a broader smile, tilting Alfred's chin upwards to meet his eyes. "Well, we can be idiots together, can we not?" Ivan said, almost grinning when Alfred blushed. Before Alfred could protest about the overt sappiness of Ivan's words, he had been drawn close to Ivan and kissed breathless.

After a moment, they separated, and Alfred looked up into Ivan's eyes. They held amusement, and Alfred looked away to pick at some snowflakes on Ivan's coat.

"I guess we can," he mumbled, though he couldn't help the smile that came to his face.

 _I lay down my life and_  
 _I surrender_


End file.
